Not So Family Christmas
by Deacon Alvey
Summary: This is a story about a boy named Aidan who loses his father the day before Christmas. But the cliffhanger at the end pretty much gives everything away. XD


(This is a story that I'm submitting for a contest on a HM-based roleplay I'm in. ^w^ Hope you enjoy it! The theme is supposed to be about "Holiday Horror". Can you imagine anything more horrible than this? )

I saw the morning sun break the horizon as I smiled, watching it crack the once dimly lit sky with it's magnificent beauty. This day was none other than Christmas eve, and that meant only one thing: tomorrow was Christmas. Certainly, it was my favorite holiday, what with everyone getting together, having fun, talking about the year, opening gifts and acting surprised, like you had no idea what people were going to get you. But things were going to be a little different, now that dad had been stationed in a far away land, to aid as a doctor in the war. I was really upset at first, because I was really close with my dad, and he always knew what to get me for Christmas. This year, though, mom was down in the dumps, and my older brother, Damian, was a more silent than he usually was. It was true, even the thought of Santa couldn't brighten my spirits. I certainly didn't believe in him, I was fourteen at this time.

I sipped up the rest of my coffee, slipped on my sweater, and walked from my room, to the living room. I was joined by my brother, but I must've missed something, because my mother was nearly having a seizure, and tears just wouldn't stop rolling down her miserable face. As soon as Damian and I managed to get her to calm down, she looked at the two of us lovingly. It took her a minute, but she eventually started to talk.

"Aidan, Damian, you know your father and I love you both, so very much, don't you?" she said, tears starting to form back in her eyes. The both of us nodded, worried.

"Your father... He... He's not going to be home this year. Or next year... Or... Ever, at all," my mother spoke softly. Time seemed to stop for a few minutes. This was probably the worst news I'd ever received. It was especially hard for my mother, she'd known my father much longer than us kid ever had. It wasn't a hard message to decode, my father had died. I didn't cry, but... I wasn't the same. It was still quite early in the morning, which meant that we could either waste the morning, the three of us absolutely devastated, bawling our eyes out, or we could remember my father in the good times, and rejoice in his life. The choice was obvious, we all decided to talk about all of the times we'd spent with dad, and all of the funny things he'd do to brighten our sad moments. If only he had been there when we needed him most. Sadly, though, there was no possible way he could have been there.

The morning easily slipped past noon, and soon enough, it was already in the late evening. I'd cried all the tears I could have in one day. This was certainly even more of a terrible Christmas than it would have previously been. All of us were depressed, we all resented the fact my father had died, trying to help people, and we all just... didn't want to go on. I don't know how I had fallen asleep, but sleep has mysterious ways of just creeping up on you sometimes.

In the morning, I woke up, and then the previous morning's event hit me. I almost wept, but then I heard a knock on my door. It was Damian. I was unsure why he was even up, especially on a holiday. I always woke up early, but Damian usually slept until at least noon. I let him in, and the both of us sat on my bed. He just sat there, talking about everything, like I was dad. He had an even closer bond with dad than I did, they did almost everything together. Although he would never show this in public, I was usually his advice center. After he'd finished talking, he looked at me. He hadn't looked me straight in the eye in four years. This meant that he was really in trouble. He was like a lost puppy, looking for someone to feed him. I was about to give him some tips on ways to feel better in this time of misery, until I heard a knock at the front door. Mom was still asleep, so I got up and peeked through the glass hole in the door, but I couldn't make out who it was. Then I heard a familiar voice say, "Merry Christmas!" My heart nearly skipped a beat as I nearly ripped the locks off the door to open it, so many emotions bursting through my body, staring at the figure who was standing in behind the door.


End file.
